


Finding a Moment of Peace

by TimmyJaybird



Series: Anatomy of a Monster [4]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, M/M, Memories of non-con, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 02:39:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1411897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will wakes from memories of his recent assault, and Hannibal has to wash his mind clean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding a Moment of Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place between _I Taste Myself in Your Marrow_ and _A Fascination of Tongues_. 
> 
> There has been an out cry on Tumblr for shower sex today. I decided I wanted to write something that worked into my verse, and ended up with this!

Will felt numb, heavy and limp as foreign hands invaded his skin, seemed to sink right in through his pores to molest muscle and tug at bone. It hurt, as if someone was attempt to suck the marrow out of his bones through a straw, and he gritted his teeth. The hands dove into the flesh of his back, grasped at his lungs and choked his breath, squeezing and yet Will did not black out. If anything it felt as if his senses refined- he could feel the pinprick of the air against every bit of his naked body.

The man was speaking, a voice Will knew but words he did not. Speaking in tongues, hands turning to fire inside his chest, and Will wanted to squirm, to thrash and kick and bite but he was _so numb_. All he could do was lay there as the man bent his head, dug teeth into the back of his neck and tore at skin, attempting to get at the vertebrae of his neck beneath.

Will felt someone, suddenly, encasing him. This was different, and the fire instantly left his lungs. Someone holding, speaking, whispers that sounded like raindrops until slowly they became _Will_ over and over and over again.

He opened his eyes, blinked against the waking light that flooded his bedroom. Hannibal was locked around him- arms, legs, every fiber of his being, holding onto him and whispering into his ear. Will couldn’t tell what as he squirmed, blinking away drowsiness, but his tone was soothing, and that was all that mattered.

“Wha,” he started, then licked his lips. “What’s going on?”

“You were having a nightmare,” Hannibal whispered, kissing just below his ear. Will scrunched his face up, tried to recall what he’d seen behind closed eyes, then shuddered and wished he hadn’t tried. He groaned, shifting, turning slightly, and Hannibal lifted his head so Will could nestle against against his chest. “Was it about him?”

“Haven’t they all been?” His voice was bitter, but not at Hannibal. He closed his eyes and breathed- smelled his own fear tinged sweat, clinging to his skin and he realized- rather embarrassed- Hannibal’s as well. He shifted back, cheeks tinging slightly pink. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and Hannibal only kissed his forehead.

“Since you’re awake,” he murmured, “how about a shower? I will make us coffee after. Perhaps you’d like to sit outside with the dogs?” Will stared at him for a moment, before he cracked a smile.

Hannibal was just too good at chasing the nightmares away. He knew exactly what Will wanted.

“Only if you shower with me,” Will teased, throwing the blanket back and crawling over Hannibal- fully aware they were both completely naked, and loving the way the man pushed himself up on his elbows to watch. “It’s no fun alone.”

Hannibal smiled at him, the kind that traveled up to his dark eyes. “I believe I can indulge you in this, dear Will.”

Will liked the water hot- to the point that if he stayed in the shower long enough he’d end up sick. Hannibal indulged him, and was always more than willing to stand behind Will and let him soak up the water first, giving his own skin time to adjust to the scalding temperature.

He pressed perfectly against Will’s back, mouthing at the back of his neck as Will sighed, closing his eyes and enjoying heat at both sides. The water was trickling over him, onto Hannibal, riveting down his back and arms. Will squirmed, mostly because he wanted to see that, to find Hannibal’s mouth- but partially because he knew if he turned, Hannibal would wet his hair and thread his fingers through it. And that was one of the most soothing feelings Will knew.

He found Hannibal’s mouth as they pressed chest to chest, claiming it in a lazy, open mouthed kiss- the kind that made his stomach feel hot and heavy, send a fire all the way down to his toes. As expected, Hannibal reached up, pushing Will’s curls back into the water, tipping his head slightly so he could slip his fingers into those locks and stroke along his scalp. Will sighed, content, slipping his mouth to Hannibal’s jaw and neck as his lover fumbled along the shower for the shampoo, returning to lather it into Will’s hair. It smelled like lavender, and Will felt his muscles relaxing as he inhaled.

One of the small concession he’d made- letting Hannibal pick his shampoo, his soap. If it meant convincing the man to spend more nights in the content solitude of his home, Will was more than willing to give. There was something about waking up to a world that seemed so empty instead of the city that made Will feel absolutely at peace.

“Tilt your head back,” Hannibal whispered, and Will did, letting him run his hands through his curls and rinse them clean. Will stayed put, hands running along Hannibal’s chest, until Hannibal was done and pulling him back in, kissing the corner of his mouth. Will laughed, shifting them, pushing Hannibal into the water. He watched as Hannibal tilted his own head back, reaching up to push the water through his sandy-grey hair, and Will wasn’t sure how he didn’t know everything down, reaching for the shampoo without looking. He lathered it into his hands then winked at Hannibal, grinning almost foolishly, and sank his fingers into his hair, pulling himself in closer at the same moment. He pressed his mouth to Hannibal’s, tracing his tongue along their seam until he was given entry, and pressed as closely to him as he could, tugging gently at his soapy hair.

Will heard him moan, swallowed it down the way Hannibal always swallowed down the sounds he made, felt Hannibal’s arms around him, hands gliding easily over wet skin, one up towards his neck, the other down, teasing the small of his back, then over the flesh of his ass. Will gasped, tongue sliding along Hannibal’s, and ground his hips against the other man’s, dipping down to kiss his jawline, his neck, as Hannibal leaned his head back into the stream of water.

Will got as far as the psychiatrist’s collar bone before he was being grabbed and rughly turned, pushed up against the tiled wall. He gave a startled, breathy laugh, smiling to himself as wet fingers pressed between flesh and against his hole, as Hannibal leaned his head down and nipped at his shoulder, pushing two fingers into him and feeling Will’s body give easily, still willing from their intimate session the previous night.

Will groaned, pushing back against Hannibal, his cock bumping up against the cool tiles. Hannibal added a third finger and curled them, and Will gave a sharp cry. Everything felt as if layers of skin had been removed and Hannibal was rubbing exposed nerves with such perfect precision that Will could barely breathe.

“Are you still sensitive from last night?” Hannibal whispered, leaning into him, kissing his neck as the water riveted from his own body onto Will’s. The younger man was nodding.

“Y-eah,” he whimpered, spreading his legs more. “I-I don’t think you need to prep me much, love.”

Hannibal chuckled into his skin, Will felt the vibrations down through the bone of his shoulder.

“Why Will, are you a bit anxious?” He curled his fingers again, and Will groaned.

“Hannibal,” he gasped, “ _don’t tease_.” He pushed back, arching his hips to push his ass up. “Do _you_ want to wait?”

Will got his answer when Hannibal’s fingers were pulled free and he was pushing against him, encasing him, pressing the head of his cock into Will’s ass without hesitation. Will groaned, pushing back and impaling himself slowly as Hannibal stayed still, his breath rushing out. Will smiled, leaning away, pushing back again, loving the feel of Hannibal’s breath on his wet skin.

“Don’t move,” Will whispered, “I want to do it.” Hannibal listened, mouthing at his shoulder, hands braced against the tiles, as Will thrust his body long his cock, happily sighing and moaning, ignoring his own aching erection for the time being, preferring to focus on the feel of Hannibal opening him, filling him up, making him feel heavy and perfect.

Will must have been moving too slowly for Hannibal, he’d reason later- which was rare, as Will was often the one begging Hannibal to speed things along, impatient and anxious in his lust- as his lover was reaching for his hips, pulling them back roughly and stealing the control from Will. With a cry, Will bowed his head, forehead against the shower tiles, as Hannibal thrust quickly, breaths coming in loud, groaning rasps, leaving Will mewling for him, shivering as his prostate was perfect struck with each thrust.

He slipped a hand down his own body, grasping his cock and stroking, forgoing an attempt at keeping his pace with Hannibal’s and wildly thrust into his own fist, his stomach tying itself quickly into small, sharp knots. He groaned, his legs quivering, the pressure at the base of his spine building until he was seeing white.

He came with a sharp cry, pushing back agianst Hannibal, who let go of what resolve he held and drove into Will with such ferocity Will could have sworn his body was torn sweetly in two, that his nerves split and wrapped around themselves. He felt Hannibal cum, felt his insides grow hot and slick and he whimpered, loving the feeling- filled not with nightmares and fiery hands that clutched at his lungs but the salt and sweetness of Hannibal’s very being.

There was nothing else. Will didn’t need anything else.

Hannibal washing Will was a sweet, fuzzy blur. Will leaning into the touches, rested back against him, his skin smelling of vanilla, his hair like lavender, the water hot and perfect, and Will so very lost that he barely knew Hannibal was touching him and not pressing up from beneath his skin.

Hannibal dried Will off in the bed room, as he came back to his senses, kissed chastely at skin as Will let his chest ache from the affection. He decided against dressing and tore the sheets of the bed, collapsing to wrap himself naked in the blanket and watch Hannibal dress instead. There was something pleasing about seeing him slip into his red sweater and not a suit. Something intimate about being allowed to see his person suit left hanging in the closet.

Hannibal kissed Will’s temple and left him in the bed. He heard him in the kitchen, speaking in a foreign tongue to the dogs. Will heard the cupboards, smelled coffee the moment Hannibal began to make it. It inhaled, deciding that allowing Hannibal some of his kitchen comforts in his home was another good compromise.

He stretched, then forced himself up, to dress, pulling a well-worn sweaters over his head as he made his way through the house to the front door, whistling for the dogs when he got there. He opened it and they spilled out into the cirsp morning, and Will followed, standing on the porch and folding his arms, watching them in the golden morning light.

If he closed his eyes, he could feel it for a moment- the feeling of hands under his skin. Hands not his own, hands he didn’t like- hands that made him feel numb. He shivered, tried to shove Barker far from his mind, hated that the man _could_ even come into his mind uninvited. The only time Will welcomed him was when he was cut open and glistening.

But those thoughts had no home inside his skull, not this morning. Will inhaled, the air was cool, settling inside his lungs. For once, things seemed peaceful- Will was going to keep it as such.

He heard the door open but didn’t look back. Hannibal walked up to him, handing him a cup of coffee and then slipping his arm around his waist, sipping at his own. Well held it in both hands, inhaling it’s aroma and heat and smiling to himself. Hannibal turned, kissed his jaw, followed his eyes out to the yard to watch the dogs.

“It’s peaceful,” Will whispered, “all of this.” Hannibal smiled, said nothing, took another drink of his coffee. Will finally followed, the drink sweetened the way he liked it. Hannibal knew him so well, inside and out, the little details of his coffee preference to the way his eyes twitched beneath their lids when he was dreaming. “I wish it would last.”

“It can,” Hannibal offered, “It may change its shape- but it can last, dear Will.” Will said nothing, took another sip of his coffee, and imagined if peace in Hannibal’s mind was red and hot and slick. He wondered if peace was bloody- he could see it as so. There was no denying there was a startling calm that had fallen over him once he knew Matthew had been dead.

Will pushed the thoughts away, decided he didn’t care. Peace in that moment was a chilly morning with the dogs dotting his yard. Peace was warm, exquisite coffee and Hannibal’s arm around him, grounding him into something Will had no name for, only knew it had its roots in love.


End file.
